2024.07.07: Ventrue being Ventrue
Marcus walks into the lobby of Gordon Tower and presents himself to the receptionist. He smiles at her in greeting, but his tone is professional "Mr. Antoninus to see Mr. Gordon. I have an appointment." The receptionist smiles softly and presses a button. The doors to the penthouse suite open. Already in the elevator is another individual: Kenna Baird. She winks at Mr. Antoninus warmly as he enters. "Gordon is always glad to see a successful Kindred in the area. Welcome home." she offers in a congratulatory attempt to endear. He extends a hand in greeting. "Thank you, Ms. Baird. It's good to be back." She takes it with a surprisingly delicate hand. This is the first time you can recall seeing her without claws or burning yellow eyes. She appears almost courtly, almost beautiful, if her eyes were not so undeniably predatory. "I'm certain it is. Gordon has been expecting you for some time... Did you hear about 'Miss Ashviews' newest risk she brought into Gordon's very home?" she offers with a mock amusement. "So unprofessional." He smiles at her "I know Prince Gordon is exceptionally busy - I didn't want to disturb him without a good reason." He pauses. "I have had my own encounters with Mr. Okay Raziel - I suggested that the local Chantry would pay dearly for him were he to continue the course of action leading to the conversation." The distaste is palpable in his tone. Kenna smirks at that, as they ride up the elevator. "Ah, you are going to be useful." she compliments. "Gordon had the same thought, but he is in no rush to send something to the darkest depths of the Blood Mages until he is absolutely certain they are nothing but a liability to him. A gift to the Tremere is rare a gift returned." She sighed. "Have you had any problems with the Rabble?" He shrugs, though his smile is less than pleasant. "He didn't listen to a more polite suggestion, and so I wanted to make a point." A pause, considering the second question "Aside from their unwillingness to speak with me, no. Though Lt. Rooke has been quite helpful on that front." He nods. "He's a good employee, that does not surprise me." she sighs, and the doors open. The doors to Gordon's office and whispers waiting room music fill the air. The doors to the office are already open, and well past the elevator the shadowed outline of Gordon looking out the window could be barely seen. "He's expecting you." she explains, trotting in. He gives Kenna a smile as he steps out. "Thank you, Ms. Baird." He walks into the office and stands quietly at the desk. Gordon scowls out the window. "It's not a night that goes by where people think themselves hidden from my gaze." he offers quietly, before turning to the man and sitting down at his desk. "You may report, Mr. Antoninus." His brilliant blue eyes set upon the Kindred with a quiet consideration. "Then you are aware of the complexities of the investigation into the activities of the Kuei-Jin?" The question is in answer to his first statement - and prefacing his own comment. He offers a non-committal shrug. "Tell me what you believe is worth reporting, Mr. Antoninus. I am not everywhere at once, I assure you." his focus sets upon the man, weighing him. "There are two events which, taken together, suggests a security breach at the Devil. I am beginning to make inquiries; however I have two matters in which I would appreciate your assistance." He tents his fingers and nods. "Well, we best start with the first matter. Proceed." "There are three possibilities as to the source of the security breach, as far as what I can fathom. One of them, I can look into independently. The second is Primogen Crowley. The third are the ghouls staffing the Devil. I am asking for your permission to look into Primogen Crowley's activities, and am hoping you will supply me with the staff list for the Devil, sir." He nods and opens a drawer. "John has a rather striking presence in the area, and it would be of no surprise. The conflict, of course, is that unless you strike extraordinarily quietly they are likely to smell you coming." he sighs. "I am already preparing my mental fortitude for accusations of your misconduct they will 'uncover'." "I prefer to strike quietly - and unobtrusively if possible. I also have no evidence against Mr. Crowley - nor anyone else - however twice now, people have known something they should not. Once, I am prepared to accept as ill luck. Twice, and the only rational assumption is that information that should not be leaving the Devil is getting out. There are only three probable means for this to occur. This is simply to determine which - if any - supposition holds true. He sighs deeply. "Do not underestimate him." he advises quietly, before refocusing on the issue at hand. "I agree with your rationale. You have my permission, though know that I will not take kindly to any intrusions which cause a headache for me. Do operate with tact." he nods sharply. "Doris, naturally, has a glaring weakness in her lack of ghouls. I would allow you to ghoul them to ensure compliance, though she would take great issue with it if she was made aware." There is a moment's hesitation. "Prince Gordon, the information that has passed out of the Devil is not what I would consider masquerade-safe. My concern is with the ghouls." He pauses at this and leans backwards. "... Nearly every northern ghoul in the city wanders through that bar. Did the Lieutenant provide you suitable leads?" "Lt Rooke has provided excellent information on a number of counts. Were this to have been a singular occurrence, I would have gone to him. It is, in my estimation, not. If the Devil is under surveillance, it poses serious risks. If the investigation into that surveillance is revealed, the investigation is risked. As with any secret, the more who are aware of it, the greater a likelihood that it is revealed. As you said earlier, nothing in this city escapes your notice - so you will find out anyways - and you can, independent of any other party, authorize the investigation and provide the starting points. Thus, I came to you first in this case. He frowns in consideration. "You brought this to me swiftly, and I suspect it would be best to investigate and retaliate as quickly as possible. This was a wise course of action." he frowns and slants his eyes. "Who will you be bringing onboard with your investigation?" "In the immediate term, nobody. As I said, the fewer who are aware of what's going on, the more secure the investigation will be. I may need to bring one of the others on board - Mr. Cruz, or Father Toliver seem like good options - but at the moment, at least while I look into the ghouls employed at the Devil, I will begin working alone." He leans back and considers it for a moment. "I am weighing what assets you will require to do this properly versus what assets I can reasonably apply to you given your current already taxed task list." he frowns for a moment, mulling it over. "A status on the Brujah, then, perhaps I can warrant an 'advance' on your limited advance in the wake of good behavior." he smiles sadly. "Even rising stars must shine light on their assigned targets, as I am certain you know." "In truth, your grace, in the short term, I don't believe I need additional assets - merely the staff list for the Devil. Name, address, contact information, and the name of their Domitor. And regarding the missing Brujah, I have begun making inquiries, and will have more information in the next couple of days for you. Lt. Rooke has provided me with an address and a house key for the missing ghoul." "And regarding the missing Brujah, I have begun making inquiries, and will have more information in the next couple of days for you. Lt. Rooke has provided me with an address and a house key for the missing ghoul." He frowns delicately at this. "... Mr. Antoninus. Let me ask you a question, and I want an honest answer. Can you promise me that?" he squints at the man, his blue eyes beginning that same ethereal glimmer that Marcus had witnessed in the past. Marcus nods "I can." Gordon leans backwards in his chair. "I am a man who needs results, because I send daily updates to the Directorate." he frowns delicately. "The rules that control our endless sea of foes must be enforced, yes?" he tilts his head. "And I am hearing from you a new and important threat. I would be foolish to shoot the messenger. But to hear little is being done on your assigned theater is deeply concerning. How would you take that, if you were me?" Marcus looks down for a moment, thoughtful before responding. "I suppose it would depend on my perception as to why that were the case. I would take a case of mistaken priorities differently from a case of forgetfulness and each in turn differently from a case of a deliberate slight. It would also depend on the reaction at it being brought up." He nods, slowly. "Bring me results on the brujah conflict, and soon. We will omit that from our consideration from the time being." he scowls with deep consideration. "... The list will be forwarded to you, as requested. I trust that you don't have to much on your plate?" Marcus nods at the Prince "Yes, sir. I'll have a report on your desk in 48 hours. And no, there is not too much on my plate." His tone is polite - deferential even (he is well aware of his mistake). He nods. "I will walk you out. I am needed downstairs." he rises up, and stalks his way over to the elevator, assuming that Marcus would keep pace. "This is not Canada, my dear boy. I can't afford to have my trusted employees merely putting out fires as they arrive. We must remove problems proactively. I have several pieces in play, and if any one of them does not move properly, they others must hold until they are resolved." he nods sternly, stepping into the floor, and setting the elevator to the lobby and the basement, respectively. Marcus nods, "Thank you, your grace." as he steps into the elevator. As the elevator lowers, Mr. Gordon sighs, checking his watch. "As an additional note, stop by the Blue Devil, you have my authority to pull any and all records. I am not to be denied on this." he offers a terse nod. "Ensure Miss Ashview knows that lapses in security are unacceptable." he states plainly as the doors open to the lobby. Kenna, it appears, was gritting her teeth in pain while in the lobby. She managed to make a sharp, loyal nod to the Prince. Marcus responds simply "Yes, your grace. And I will provide further information as soon as I have it." As Marcus gets off in the lobby, he nods to Kenna. "Ms. Baird, always a pleasure." Kenna smiles knowingly at Marcus. "Oh, yes, it is. Glad to see Our Prince has kept you in favor." she offers genuinely, as the elevator descends. "Thank you." Another smile as he moves swiftly into the night towards the Devil. ___ Meanwhile, down on the ground floor, Lizzy comes in, but not before looking around to make sure she has not been followed... Below, in the hallway, Kenna Baird was waiting at the elevator for the human. She beckons with a long finger towards Lizzy. "You. The Bartender." she correctly recalls and hits the door open. "Hm hm hmmm." Lizzy nods and heads for the open elevator door with quickened steps. The door would close behind her... And the elevator would descend into the basement. Kenna was grinning ear to ear as she let it slip down, still outside standing guard. "Oh, the Queen Bitch ain't gonna smile pretty at this." She mutters... Before wincing in soft pain, from some subconcious force. Lizzy purses her lips, but says nothing. Poor girl REEKS of prey right now, too. Kenna can likely smell it. Liz would find herself in a safehouse. GI embossed on the walls, and a pair of armed security guards idly talking to each other near a computer monitor. One of them gestured her to sit down in the row of chairs. This... does not make the poor spooked human feel that much more comfortable. She takes a seat obediently, though, hands clasped tight in her lap. Mr. Gordon, famed businessman, exits the elevator into the basement lobby. He looks to Lizzie, and walks towards her rapidly with concern. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?" his voice dripping with empathy and the whisper of fear. Lizzy stands as Gordon comes in and approaches. She looks unhurt. "I'm not hurt. Shaken pretty bad, but not hurt. And I checked to make sure I wasn't being followed." This does nothing for anyone in Obfuscate, unfortunately. Poor mortal. He takes off his jacket, clearly tens of thousands of dollars, and offers it to her. "Easy, you're safe here." he promised. He snaps his fingers, and gestures towards the security team. They press a button, now noticiably straighter with Gordon present, and a door unlocks and opens. "Come, come, I have a saferoom. You don't have to leave until you feel comfortable, I promise." he smiles genuinely. "Whatever shook you, it's not going to get through Gordon Tower. I prepped this place for Mexico itself to invade!" He offers, attempting some small levity, the truth of the matter going unstated. "Why would..." The question dies on her lips in bewilderment, though, and she shakes her head, taking the jacket. "Thank you. While what I was told indicates that I'm not in danger, people lie like goddamn rugs." She clutches the jacket around her when she says that. Gordon sits down in a room that looks basically like a small apartment. Well, small in the sense of the size of the general complex. It was easily 1,100 square feet, with a large kitchen and dining area paired with an open door to a bedroom. It was undeniably stark, save for someone's moderate attempts at decor. It appears that hanging Scottish Flags, maps of Scotland, and Lions everywhere was that attempt. "A saferoom, of sorts." he frowned and glanced around. "I have several of them. You'd be amazed what madness takes people in my line of work." he promises her. "You take a seat, and you take it easy. Tell me what happened, whenever you are ready." She takes a seat, as coaxed... and the minute she does, it's like whatever force of will that kept her upright long enough to get her here just gives out. She slumps forward, her hands moving to her face, and the deep breath she takes to keep herself from completely melting down is ragged, shuddering. Eventually, the words tumble out. "This is gonna sound crazy, and I wouldn't give this credence if I hadn't seen evidence myself. But I did. There are honest-to-God vampires in this city, Mr. Gordon, and they're using the Blue Devil as a meeting place." A beat. She needs to breathe, after all. "Far as I can tell, they love this place just as much as you do and want to keep it safe. Far as I can tell, they don't want to harm me, either. But knowledge of their existence could get me killed. My promise to you brought me straight here, but I'm scared if they know you know, it could be disastrous. They think Jason's death might be related to their kind somehow." She looks up at Mr. Gordon. She doesn't suspect. Not yet. "In related news, I have a shockingly perceptive therapist who apparently is a, in her words, donor." Gordon blinked at this. He blinked again. He stopped, took a deep breath, and looked up. "... Miss. McCrory... You... You understand that is... Well... You know what I am going to say, yes?" he asks, very carefully. His voice didn't doubt her, it instead was draped with exasperation and concern. He glances up to her, blue eyes set to her in bewilderment. "A donor?" "Her words, not mine." She holds up her hands defensively. "Apparently she lets one of them drink from her. And I know this sounds absolutely crazy. But I saw one. He showed me his fangs. They retract when he doesn't need 'em. And he moved faster than I could track. I felt the rush of air as he moved, but he crossed a distance faster than I could blink that should have..." She shakes her head, clearly disbelieving it even as she remembers it and says it out loud. "I'm a pretty rational person. At first, when she said something about it, I thought it was some kinky roleplay thing and said I wanted no part in it, but..." She shakes her head. "I know what I saw, and I was stone-cold sober at the time." He stops, and looks down at the floor for a moment. Clearly struggling to process this. "... I... I can't say I expected this." he looked up. "If you had told me the Russians were after you, that would have been more plausible." he half-joked, before glancing away for a moment, lost in thought. "... I won't pretend... To believe..." he laughs, and shakes his head. "God be praised, Miss. McCrory, you have to see that it is absurd!" He exclaims, looking at her. "Who are these people? What are their names? Can we google them?" he asks, pulling his cell phone from his jacket. Or rather, from his pants, because he gave her his jacket. "I did not believe it myself, which was WHY I went to check on this before I came to you." Lizzy looks Gordon dead in the eye. "I made a promise to you, and there is a good chance I am putting my life on the line to tell you this. That is why I texted you before I went to confront the person she named." "Check that text again. Think about it." Mr. Gordon looks at the text, confused. "... Alright, well, let's entertain this for a moment." he holds his hands up, confused. "Let's say you're right, they are real, and we are in danger of god-abandoned monsters hunting in this city." he points in the general direction of the street, even from his bunker. "They are across. the. street." he accents. "Do we even know who it could be?!" he asks, caution mixed with paranoia. "Most of the regulars have been at least implicated." Lizzy makes a pained face. "Balcésar Cruz. Maybe Marcus Antoninus. Maybe Enoch. Maybe Cerriphan, but that just might be because she's weird, doesn't drink anything, and pops up out of nowhere and scares the bejeezus out of me on the regular." She looks up at Marcus. "Every self-preservation instinct tells me I shouldn't tell a soul, and that I shouldn't have even said anything to you." Gordon sighs, and leans backwards. "This city is a nightmare, sometimes." he rubs his eyes. "So you think they cavort together... And your brother was a Vampire, then?" he asks, carefully. "I don't know how I can even begin to investigate this. Honestly, I don't." "I don't know if Jason was." She shakes her head... then bites her lip. "...I've been made an offer to know more. I don't know what it entails yet, but it could be an in." He shakes his head. "What? Why? What the hell?" "You wanna know what's goin' on with this? None of them know you and I talk. It's an option. But like I said, far as I can tell, they don't want to fuck anything up here in the city." He frowns at that, and squints at her. "Who made you an offer? And why would you risk your life for me?" he asks, genuinely. "If I were you I'd take the next bus out of the city." She makes a face, like she doesn't want to say the name again. "... this is hard for me, because it's the person I trusted to help me find answers with Jason. As for you... I made you a promise that if I saw anything strange, I'd come to you immediately. Here I am, and this is as strange as it gets." "And I don't really have anywhere else to go," she adds in a much smaller, deflated voice. He sighs, and leans back. He mulls it over a moment longer, before muttering what you suspect would be Scottish (Is scottish a language, you wonder?) for 'Fuck it' before finally saying "We will have to investigate, I don't know if I believe you, but I can tell you believe it." Lizzy looks relieved. "Honestly, like, I know I sound crazy. But I wouldn't waste your time on something I didn't verify myself." He rubs his eyes. "Ok, well, the way I see it, you have two options: Buy into it, or scatter, assuming they will try to find you. I think buying into it and seeing what shakes out will help, I suppose." "I'll be careful. If it gets too heavy, I'll do a handoff and bolt." Gordon scowls. "I can't exactly let you go in unarmed or... Well, you understand." he offers a frown and starts texting. "You comfortable with a gun?" Lizzy raises an eyebrow. "Darlin'," she says, emphasizing her natural drawl. "I'm from Texas. It's kind of a requirement to live in the state." She's joking, right? "Do you have an issue with wearing a wire?" She shakes her head. He sighs. "This could be dangerous." "I know. But if there's a scrap of truth to any of this, I've been in danger this whole time. At least with this, I can do something about it." He rubs his eyes and gets up. "Fuck, I need a drink. Would you care for anything? Your options are..." He opens the liqour cabinet. "... Alright, I have Scotch. I suppose that theme may have gone a bit far." Lizzy laughs, the first time she's laughed since she got here. "Scotch it is." He smiles warmly, reaching in, and pulling out a surprisingly dark bottle of scotch. It has clearly been chilled. "I like it cold, you'll have to forgive me." He idly walks forward, and pours two glasses. "Funny story, actually." he looks up, mid pour. "I was wondering why the land was so cheap. Who knew I had a Vampire investation?" he laughs at himself. "Hey, better to chill it than water it down with too much ice." She then smiles. "If the vampires were here before, you'd think they'd've put a bit more effort into makin' the place not a shithole." He offers her the glass, and raises it. "Twenty bucks on my esteemed friend Miss Moore is a Vampire. No earthly being can yell at me so loudly." he jests, a small grin forming. Lizzy snorts as she holds back a laugh. "I doubt it, but I can see why you might think that. But Doris yells louder. Trust me. I've worked for 'em both." And then she sips the scotch... and stares at the glass. "...my God, what scotch is this? Like, oh my God. I need this at home." He laughs. "Ah, it's an old one. Glasgow's Bonnet Bottling. No better Whiskey." he pulls up the bottle. "... 1962. Huh, I thought this was older." he mused. He levels her eyes at her. "It's not exactly cheap, though I did end up buying the plant. I can see if they have a more mondern 'vintage' for you." Lizzy beams. "I'd be pleased as punch. I do have some money lyin' around that people won't let me spend, so..." She chuckles. "Might need to sock some of it away in investments or somethin'. Y'know. Do something more intelligent with it than booze and makeup." He nods. "That's thinking cleverly." he assures her, taking a sip of his drink. "Bloody hell... Vampires..." he laughs at the very idea. Lizzy takes a deep breath and takes another sip. "Right? The fuck." He raises a finger, from the drink, mid thought. "Well, I know one thing for sure: You got a colorful few days ahead of you." "Don't let it get out you're looking into this. Media circus is written all over it if it gets linked back to me." "Not a word. Besides, who would believe me?" He shrugs, and nods. "Well, take it easy tonight, and when you're ready, you can head out. I'd honestly consider waiting until morning, but it is your business." "I think that might be a smart plan. If folklore has any credence to it, it's safest for me to be out and about during the day." "Hah." he rises up, and moves to the door. "Be careful, alright? I'm going to have a friend come by and check on you in a few hours." She nods. "Thank you. I... might need a phone charger, now that I think about it." She grins sheepishly. He laughs. "The aides will bring them." he picks up the phone, placing a call. "Hey, Rooke, we have a friend staying in Unit S-1. Ensure she is well taken care of." he waves goodbye, closing the door behind him. Lizzy waves, then, when Gordon is gone, curls up in the seat, nursing that scotch a bit more. Gordon was so nice to her, and so protective. She felt so much safer now. She really did. Category:Logs